w4w
by Smileyfax
Summary: Daria places a personal ad on the Internet, and receives a reply from someone completely unexpected...


Daria nervously played with the wadded-up napkin as she waited for her date to arrive at the nondescript restaurant just on the outskirts of Lawndale.

They had been corresponding via email for several days now; neither had offered up a name or picture, due to concerns about anonymity and so forth. The correspondence began when Daria had, against every sensible bone in her body, placed a personal ad on Craigslist seeking a like-minded person (i.e. well-read, cynical, scornful of their peers, etc). She felt like she was setting herself up for a huge fall (especially if, God forbid, her pen-pal was somebody she knew), but despite her stony attitude and next to nonexistent social skills, she was...lonely. Sure, she had Jane, but there were certain...emotional and physical needs Jane couldn't fulfill. (At least, Daria was pretty sure Jane wouldn't entertain fulfilling those needs, and anyway Daria didn't think of Jane like that).

She checked her watch for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the past ten minutes - it was almost eight, the time they had arranged to meet, and the unsure voice at the back of her head whispered that she had been played a fool, that the other person would never come, that -

There she was.

She wore a scarf to cover her hair and large sunglasses to cover most of her face, but she had the single white rose they had agreed upon as a contact identifier. Daria lifed up her own red rose, which the woman noticed.

She stopped just short of the table. "Don't I know you?" she asked in a strangely accented, yet strangely familiar voice.

"Oh God," Daria muttered, every inch of her skin turning red from a humiliation-flavored blush.

"You're Quinn's sis...cousin!" Sandi Griffin said, equally shocked and horrified.

"Oh God," Daria repeated.

"Well...do you still want to do this?" the fashionista suggested.

Daria opened her mouth (most likely in an effort to say 'Oh God' again), but words failed her.

Sandi smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

XXXX

"Um." It was the first time Daria had attempted conversation in the five minutes they had been sitting there. The waiter had already taken their orders; Sandi had ordered for the both of them, as Daria was still too mortified to talk.

"Look, I know this is, like, weird for you and stuff, but, like, just think of how weird it is for me," Sandi pointed out, trying to calm Daria's nerves. "I, Sandi Griffin, the most popular girl in Lawndale High, have to resort to clandestine meetings in shady locales so I can meet a cute, geeky girl."

Daria's brain snagged onto one word in particular. "You think I'm cute?" Daria spilled out, a little aghast at the notion.

"Well, I would have said sexy...but I didn't want to scare you off." Sandi winked flirtatiously. Daria's face was fire-engine red. "Why do you keep looking around, anyway? See any cute waitresses?"

Daria had been not-so-surreptitiously looking around for Quinn, Stacy, or even Tiffany, or any other evidence whatsoever suggesting this was a sting intended to humiliate her. After a moment, Sandi intuited this as well.

"Look, Quinn's 'cousin', this isn't a trick, okay? I had no way of knowing that you wrote that ad on Craigslist, and if I did and was bitchy enough to tell my subordinates, they would just wonder what I was doing in the 'w4w' section anyway. Like, duh." She flicked her hand as if dismissing the whole notion of coming out in such a clumsily accidental manner was beneath her.

Daria had to acknowledge the point. "But still...how is it you're as smart as I am? I know what grades Quinn gets, and she always brags whenever she gets a C and you get a C minus. Uh...no offense," Daria added the last, embarrassed, as Sandi raised a skeptical eyebrow at Daria's observation.

"It's true, I do get bad grades. But that doesn't mean I'm stupid...after all, isn't it true that your art friend...Jane, was it? Isn't it true that she took, like, a bye on one of her tests when she was on the track team? You don't think she's stupid, do you?" Daria turned away, shamed by the truth in Sandi's statement.

Sandi reached over and took one of Daria's hands. "I don't blame you for thinking that, Daria. I, like, have to maintain a veneer of mediocrity because of my mom." Her voice ebbed a little into the sneering tone it usually held when she mentioned her mother. "She, like, wants me to be the queen bee, and in Lawndale, that means shitty grades."

Daria mulled this over for a moment. "She sounds like a bitch," Daria finally concluded.

Sandi giggled. "Yeah, she does," she nodded, a playful smile on her face. "She does mean well, but..." She shook her head and decided to change the subject. "Ooh, here comes our food. I just love the pasta at this place."

As they dined, Daria watched with curiosity as Sandi practically wolfed down the linguine on her plate. "It's weird seeing a fashion drone eat like it's going into style," she remarked.

"Oh, I love all kinds of food," Sandi admitted. "The greasier, the better. But, you know, the queen bee thing."

Daria felt uneasy about asking, but she just had to. "How do you keep the weight off? You don't..."

Sandi shook her head, a firm look on her face. "The Fashion Club has a zero tolerance policy in regards to eating disorders," she stated. "Brooke - you might remember her, she had a plastic surgery incident - after she recovered from her nasal relapse, she petitioned for entry into the club again, but once we found out she practiced anorexia, we placed her on permanent fashion sabbatical until she underwent treatment for her problem." She pursed her lips. "She hasn't been back since."

"Oh...um. I'm sorry to hear it," Daria lamely offered.

"Thanks," Sandi shrugged. "I don't let myself feel too bad about it, though...like, you can't keep people from self-destructive behaviors, or else they wouldn't make cigarettes anymore." They ate the rest of their meal in silence.

After paying the bill, they stood outside the restaurant, uncertain of what to do next. "So...when do you want to go out next?" Sandi asked.

Daria was silent for a bit. "Um. I'm not sure I want to go out with you again."

"Oh? Is there, like, something wrong with me?" Sandi asked regally.

"No, no, nothing wrong with you," Daria backpedaled. "Um. It's just...weird...since we already know each other...sort of...and you're one of Quinn's friends...ish..."

Sandi smiled. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?" She planted a quick kiss on one of Daria's cheeks, prompting the smaller girl to turn fire-engine red again. "Think of it like this: Together, we can drive Quinn nuts."

Daria considered this proposition. "I like the way you think, Griffin."

Sandi batted her eyelashes. "Please. If we're going to be going out, call me Sandi."

"Okay..." Daria summoned up every iota of courage within her, leaned up, and pecked Sandi on the lips ever so briefly. "Sandi." She was pleased to see Sandi's cheeks begin to blush up as well.

Sandi internally composed herself, and then leaned in and kissed Daria fully on the lips, lingering for several seconds. "How's this weekend sound?" she asked, pleased to have one-upped the older girl.

Now firmly wanting to top Sandi, Daria put her hands on Sandi's hips, pulled her close, and planted a deeper kiss on the fashionista's lips. She even found the gall to briefly slip her tongue out, teasing Sandi's. "This weekend sounds great," she said breathlessly after pulling back.

Sandi nodded, a crooked grin on her face. "Wow. Okay. See you then!" She walked off to her car, still reeling at how electric the last kiss had been. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she noticed Daria now sat at the bus stop, waiting for the next one to arrive. She pulled up and rolled down her window. "Care for a ride home, beautiful?" she called out. She smiled with pleasure as Daria blushed yet again, thumbing the switch which unlocked the passenger side door as Daria nodded and walked around to the other door.

It took twenty minutes before Sandi reached Daria's house. It was another ten minutes before Daria finally managed to leave the Sandimobile, panting with exhilaration and exhaustion. She made her way up to her room, locked the door behind her, and fell onto the bed. "Holy shit, Morgendorffer," she said to herself, still unbelieving of the night's events. "Holy shit."

XXXXXXXXXX

I mentioned this fic briefly during my participation in the Fanworks Day last week (or was it the week before?) and, finding myself unable to sleep last night/this morning, picked it at semi-random to work on. And huzzah, I've completed the first chapter! Not too sure where I'll be going with this; I didn't even have that kiss-off at the end in mind until it just kind of happened. (I really should plot out my fics more often; maybe then, I wouldn't have several dozen unfinished stories gathering dust). 


End file.
